


Promise Made, Promise Kept

by Desparado



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:50:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24393817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Desparado/pseuds/Desparado
Summary: Geralt and Y/n roam the lands looking for monsters to kill and coins to earn, all with a bard and a child surprise in tow. After stopping at a village for a hunt and much needed time off the road, your blissful retreat comes to a crashing end when enemies come to make their claim. You made a promise that no harm would come to the child and it is promise you will die keeping.
Relationships: Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon/Reader, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Reader, Jaskier | Dandelion/Reader
Kudos: 91





	1. Promise Made, Promise Kept (Part 1)

**Author's Note:**

> Geralt x reader (romantic); Ciri x reader (parental); Jaskier x reader (platonic)  
> Reader has female pronouns  
> Warnings: Swearing; Canon typical violence; Each chapter will have separate warnings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Swearing; Canon typical violence

“Oh come on, Geralt, please? I’m aching from all this riding!” Ciri’s voice whined from behind you. You smiled at her attempts to persuade him stop in the nearby village, she had been trying since just after dawn and now, as the sun reached its highest peak in the sky, you were all begging him. “Yes Geralt come on, Ciri’s right- we’ve been riding for days now, surely we can stop for one night?” It was Jaskier’s turn to beg, you turned to look at him and caught the wink he gave Ciri. You heard her chuckle slightly behind you and then felt her fingers dig into your waist slightly- urging you to take part. You sighed and then rode closer to Geralt- who had been silently staring ahead of him the entire time, “Maybe they’re right, my love. We’ve had some good hunts the last few days, why not get a good meal and a better night’s sleep?” He finally turned to look at you, his jaw set firmly until he saw the smile on your face and you watched his stern expression falter slightly. “Fine.” He mumbled, before turning Roach to head down a dusty track towards the village. “Thank you.” Ciri whispered, you turned to look at her and gave her a wink.

The village was small but compact, traders of all manners seemed to have converged here as the cries from the market could be heard from edge of the river that flowed alongside its border. After leading your horses to the stables and paying the keeper for some hay, you watched Jaskier race Ciri through the square and towards the inn, Geralt keeping watch from the stable entrance. You joined him and leaned into his arm, “Thank you for this, I think we all needed it.” The witcher grunted at you before offering you a thin smile; you placed a chaste kiss on his jaw and then set off after the others, Geralt slowly following suit.  
You ended up staying for 3 nights as it turned out the village had been trying to get rid of some drowners further down the river, allowing Jaskier and Ciri to enjoy ‘normal life’ as you and Geralt got to work. The sheer number of drowners had surprised you but they were easy enough to dispatch, both of you fighting side by side in synchronicity, your abilities to work around each other without a thought is what made you the perfect pair- in battle as well as romantically.  
Upon returning to the village, you were met with high praise and various gifts- food, ale and even clothes, as well as a few coins. The tavern that night was heaving, Jaskier thrilling the residents with his songs and stories, you and Ciri sung along as Geralt brooded in the corner like always. During the final song- Toss A Coin to your Witcher, of course- Ciri pulled you away from the table you both danced, singing your hearts out amongst the locals which made Jaskier’s – and Geralt’s- heart swell. Afterwards, you all headed back to the inn; Jaskier bid you all a good night as he entered his room, and you walked arm in arm with Ciri into yours, the young princess was barely able to keep her eyes open. You helped her into bed and wrapped her in blankets, smiling at how fast she fell asleep as you tucked some hair behind her ear. “You’re really good with her.” A quiet voice called behind you. Turning, you smiled at Geralt as he slowly closed the door behind him and met you at the side of your bed. “Don’t worry, you’re still her favourite.” You replied, a small chuckle leaving your lips as you took off your clothes- all except for your undershirt- and settled in the bed. He grunted at you and then mimicked your actions, instinctively lifting his arm for you as he laid down so you could snuggle into his side. Legs entwined, you pressed gentle kisses to each other’s lips as fatigue came over you both and you drifted off the sleep. 

The village seemed surprisingly quiet this morning, only a few residents were wandering the market as you went looking for some soaps to take with you on your travels. Turning the corner, you smiled as you found the kind old woman sat down in the shade, her baskets at her feet. “Hello, Imelda- I’ve come for those soaps before we left-”  
“Hush my dear.” She breathed, eyes all darting around. Your heart froze and you knelt down next to her, placing a hand on her knee,  
“What’s wrong?”  
“You need to leave. Some men have been asking around for a girl with blonde hair, I think they’re looking for your daughter.” Adrenaline kicked in hard as you registered the words. “Did they say why?”  
“No, but they don’t look very nice and you’ve been so helpful to us. Go, quickly before someone tells them where you are!” She urgently tugged your hand off her knee, her eyes watering as she spoke. You nodded at her before quickly walking back to the inn. As you made it to the market square, you spotted the men Imelda was talking about and swiftly hid behind a stack of boxes. Three tall men were stood talking with the butcher, their unmistakable black rippled armour had your blood turning cold. You watched as the butcher nodded and pointed towards the tavern, before the men all turned and rushed across the square. Once out of sight, you leapt from your hiding place and ran to the inn, practically throwing the door open. You saw your companions in the dining room, Jaskier and Ciri were confused by your sudden entrance but Geralt quickly rose to his feet and stared you wide-eyed. “We need to leave. Now.” You stated, tugging Ciri from her chair and half-sprinting to the stairs before halting by the innkeepers table. “If anyone comes asking for us, tell them we’re in the room down there.” You ordered, pointing to the opposite corridor you were in. He nodded before returning to his duties as you carried on to the room. “Y/n what’s going on? You’re scaring me-”  
“They’re here.” You interrupted as you threw your belongings into bags. Geralt was by the window keeping watch,  
“Are you sure?” He asked, his eyes not leaving the tavern door.  
“Definitely. Three Nilfgaardian soldiers asking for a girl with blonde hair, but they’re not telling people why.” You swung the bag over your shoulder and gave Ciri hers. Grabbing her cloak and wrapping it around her, you lifted her hood up and tucked her hair inside. You saw tears forming in her eyes and could almost hear her heart racing. You knelt down in front of her and placed a hand on her cheek, softly rubbing away any tears that fell, “Don’t you worry my sunflower, I will let no harm come to you as long as I live.” She nodded slightly and you kissed her forehead before standing up. “They’re coming.” Geralt whispered as he quickly moved away from the window. At that moment there were three knocks at the door- knock, pause, knock-knock- followed by a call of your name. You opened the door as Jaskier slipped inside. “Okay, what’s the plan?” He asked, the concern showing on his face. “Jask- I need you to go down now and prepare the horses, they won’t be looking for you. When they come in, the innkeeper is going to tell them we’re in the room down the corridor. Once they go in, that’s when we slip downstairs and get the fuck out of here.” Jaskier nodded and then took a deep breath before leaving the room. You closed the door after him and slowly walked over to the edge of the window. Peering from behind the wall, you could just make out the soldiers stalking towards the building like a storm cloud as they marched past the villagers setting up their stalls. After a few seconds, Jaskier strolled out of the building, his pace didn’t falter as the two crossed paths but the soldiers never looked at him, and you breathed a sigh of relief.

You stood by the door and waited in silence, with Ciri behind you and Geralt behind her. You strained your ears as you heard muffled voices followed by quick footsteps on the wooden stairs. Your heart stopped when the footsteps paused at the top, your hand griping the hilt of your sword in readiness. You heard another muffled voice and then the steps starting moving away from you. After another minute you very carefully opened the door and peered through the gap. Your body shivered when you saw the men crowding around a door at the very end of the corridor, swords in hand, before one of them kicked the door down and they all ran in. Time to go. You threw your door open and pulled Ciri behind you, sprinting to the stairs and almost falling down them with the speed you were going at. Once outside, you let go of Ciri told her to run ahead, watching her run towards the stables where Jaskier was pulling out the horses. Geralt ran to your side and yanked your arm to go with him, “Don’t you dare slow down.” He growled.  
“Well done Jaskier.” You hissed as you helped him lead your horse out of the stable.  
“I’m sorry I didn’t finish, I tried to go as fast as I-”  
“You did a perfect job, thank you.” You gave him a quick smile, watching as Geralt straddled his horse. Jaskier was leading his out when you heard a door slam in the distance followed by shouting. Flicking your head round, you cursed as the three men came running over to you, swords high. You were tempted to fight them- stop the threat then and there- but then your blood curdled as you saw three more Nilfgaard soldiers burst out from one of the houses and join them. “Fuck.” Geralt hissed behind you. You span round and hoisted Ciri up onto your horse, seeing the panic in her eyes. You held her cheek in your hand, treasuring the feel of her skin, “I made you a promise. Don’t you dare stop.” You ordered before slapping your horses leg and shouting, making him break into a gallop down the path towards the river. “Y/n!” Geralt yelled behind you.  
“Go! Now!” You screamed back, not daring to turn around as you walked towards the oncoming attack, unsheathing your sword. You heard him curse again then Roach whinny as hooves struck the cobbled ground and then fade away. Your attempted defence was swiftly defeated, six against one wasn’t exactly a fair fight. As they had you on the ground, some of the men kicked you in the back and stomach and you tried to your best to get up. Then you felt a cold, heavy object strike the back of your head and your body went numb. Dropping to the floor once more- your vision clouding- you heard a familiar shout followed a panicked horse and a body slumped to the ground. You were helpless as your vision blackened, all you could was croak, “Jaskier!”


	2. Promise Made, Promise Kept (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Jaskier are being held captive by the Nilfgaardian soldiers, regularly beaten as they demand for Ciri’s location.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt by @sparkingstoryinspiration  
> “Maybe this is it, you know? Maybe this is all we were ever meant to be.”  
> “Fuck that, I’m not dying here.”
> 
> Warnings: Swearing; canon typical violence; mentions of blood/beatings/murder

The taste of blood trickled into your mouth as the burning sensation on your cheek slowly subsided. But still you remained silent; you weren’t going to give them what they wanted. “I said,” A rough voice spat as a tall, scrawny man gripped your chin and violently lifted your head to meet his gaze, “Where is she?” You gave him a bloodstained grin and nothing more; the irritation in his eyes was clear and he struck you again on the face, this time connecting with the side of your nose. A warm, wet feeling began to drip down followed by a pungent, coppery smell, a familiar sensation even if the situation was not. Your captor backed away from your chair and walked over to another soldier, whispering. They had been beating you for answers sporadically since they took you the previous day, each soldier taking their turn to interrogate you; this was man number 3 and you still hadn’t uttered a word.  
You looked around, once again taking in the details of the room you were held in. It was dimly lit, stone walls surrounded you and rotten beams barely held up the ceiling. The wooden slats covering the small window were splintered and barely blocked the dying sunlight; that combined with the dust and dried leaves littering the floor suggested that wherever you were had long been abandoned. You eyed the soldiers by the door as you could hear Jaskier’s grunts in the distance, the sound of him in pain made your blood boil. You hadn’t seen him since being captured- you knew this was on purpose- and so hearing his cries were the only evidence you had that he was still alive. Closing your eyes, you prayed that Jaskier was still holding on. You also prayed that Geralt and Ciri were somewhere safe; just knowing she was out of Nilfgaard’s reach made you smile, blood and saliva dripping onto your ripped breeches. The daze you had been in was slowly fading and giving way to the aches that covered your body. Your shoulders throbbed from the forced angle and your wrists burned from the rope that tied them behind you. Tilting your head, you watched the men leave you in the room alone, locking the door behind them. With that you let out a shaky breath and looked through the window, seeing nothing but trees and the setting sun. You wanted to cry, wanted to scream and yell and curse the bastards for what they were doing to you; but it was pointless and there was no way on this earth you were going to give them that satisfaction.

You must have fallen asleep because you were then startled awake by the unlocking of the door. They didn’t normally come to you this late- the only light in the room was the moonlight streaking through the window- and so you waited patiently with your eyes focused on the door. It swung open and you saw two shadows dragging something into the room, letting it drop to the floor and then walking out again. The door closed and locked followed by silence. You didn’t move, eyes staring at the space where the dark shape was, ears straining. Your heart rate increased when the shape moved slightly, followed by a groan and mumbled curse word. You sighed, tears filling your eyes, as you recognised the voice, “Jask?” The groaning stopped suddenly, a pause, then the figure shuffled on the floor.  
“Y/n?” A quiet voice called out. You sniffed.  
“Oh god Jaskier I’m so glad you’re alright.” You whispered, trying to stop yourself from crying. He shuffled again and moved into the light. Then you could see the damage- ripped clothes, bloody nose and scuff marks all over him. His legs and arms were tied still but he was able to shuffle. As he reached you, he forced himself into a kneeling position and placed his head on your shoulder; you leaned your head against him and breathed him in, grateful to have the contact. “Are you okay? Have they hurt you?” He asked as he pulled back to get a look at you, the moonlight reflected in your eyes and he could see the dark blood stains on your face and body. “Those bastards.” He mumbled.  
“I’m fine, don’t worry. I am curious as to why they’ve let you in here… I thought they’d want to keep us separate?”  
“I heard one of them talking about leaving in the morning, I think they’ve given up on us.” He whispered as he placed his forehead on yours. “I fear that they may kill us before they set off.”  
“Well, at least Geralt and Ciri got away.” You smiled. He nodded in agreement and then kissed your forehead before moving to sit down in front of you, his back against your knees and his head tilted into your lap. You watched him sigh and close his eyes, a tear slowly fell down his cheek and glistened in the moonlight.

You managed to get some sleep before then watching the deep indigo sky begin to dilute and turn blue with flecks of yellow. Jaskier was still leaning against you, his breathing shallow as he stirred awake. “I do wish I was able to teach Ciri how to play the lute.” He said, taking a deep breath and looking out the window. “What, so you could annoy Geralt even when you weren’t around?” He chuckled at your response as he then leaned forward and moved sideways to be able to look at you properly, “Of course! But also because I wanted to be more for her, you know? I wanted to give her music, something that can make her smile or cry when she wanted it to.” You could hear the melancholy in his voice as he spoke and it saddened you, that the once cheerful and obscenely optimistic Bard was now reflecting on life in his final moments. “Maybe this is it, you know? Maybe this is all we were ever meant to be.” His words made you think about Geralt, about how far he had come with this emotions, allowing himself to be vulnerable around you. You thought about Ciri, about her smile, her laugh, how she always told people you were her mother and how it made your heart sing… a child surprise of you own it seemed. And to think that you would never see their faces again, that you were going lose your family and potentially watch your best friend die all on the same day. “Fuck that, I’m not dying here.” You hissed, making Jaskier’s gaze flick over to you. You looked around the room again and then down at your chair. With all the energy you could muster, you stood up – almost losing balance from your lack of strength and having the chair legs tied to your own. You wobbled over to the table in the corner of the room- gaining pace- before then leaping and turning to slam the chair into the edge. Slumping to the floor, you spluttered as the dust invaded your airways. “What in destiny’s name are you-?” Jaskier stopped midway when you picked yourself up, stepped back and then staggered forward, once again slamming the back of the chair into the table. This time the spine of the chair snapped and the rope that held your wrists became loose. “Aha!” You called out as you wiggled your arms until they were free and then rolled over to then untie the ropes on your legs. Just then you could hear shouting behind the door followed by it unlocking. One of the guards came storming in, taking sight of Jaskier first, then looked over at where your chair used to be. His gaze flicked to you just as you slammed your body weight into him, causing him to fall into the wall. His head collided with the stone and he slid down. You grabbed his hand and then slammed it again for good measure, before checking his body for weapons. You took his sword, and even found your knife on his person, before stumbling over to Jaskier and cutting him free. “You can barely walk, how are we going to make it out?"  
“Because Jaskier,” You started as you cut the rope tying his legs together. “I have a promise to keep; and at this point- we have nothing to lose.” You gave him a smile, and he returned the gesture, nodding at you before hoisting himself up. As you brushed yourself down, you heard another voice followed by footsteps heading to you. You gave Jaskier the sword and both of you crept to stand by the open door, waiting for your prey. As soon as he stepped over the threshold, you leaped at him and pulled him to the floor, taking your knife and slicing his throat. “Two down,” You muttered, taking the man’s sword and holding it in your dominant hand.   
“Four to go.” Jaskier finished, smiling at you. He quickly peered around the door and then walked out as you followed.


	3. Promise Made, Promise Kept (Part 3)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s time for you and Jaskier to escape, will you manage to succeed despite your poor condition? 
> 
> Warnings: Swearing; canon typical violence; depictions of blood and murder

Your knife glided through the man’s skin as you stifled his cry with your hand. He went limp in your arms very quickly and you let him drop to the floor, your knife easily slipping out of the side of his neck. You looked over at Jaskier who had been fighting a very tall soldier and managed to stab him with his sword, almost falling into him as he did. Walking over, you placed your hand on his shoulder, “Good job.” You whispered, squeezing his shoulder slightly. “That’s four down,” He replied, tearing his eyes away from his victim, “But where are the other two?”  
“Who knows, but this place isn’t very big, they must be outside somewhere.” You looked around as you spoke before your gaze fell to some items on a table. Stepping closer, you smiled when you realised it was your belongings. Dropping the sword in your hand, you picked up the one from the table and held like in your fingers, smiling as you checked it over. It was light, sharp and your name was carved just below the hilt- this was definitely yours. Sheathing your sword and securing your belt, you both prepared to go outside and face whatever was waiting. As you were about to leave, you could hear shouts outside- names being called. You both stood either side of the doorway and froze, listening intently as the shouts came closer. Then you heard another voice, followed by more. “Fuck,” Jaskier hissed, “There’s more of them!”  
“How many?” You asked. He peaked through the window next to him as subtly as he could.  
“Oh bollocks, at least three but I swear I can hear five.”  
“Shit.” You mumbled, looking around you. The fire in the hearth was dying but the embers still glowed and it gave you an idea. “Keep an eye out, if they come over then barricade the door and hide yourself.” You quickly grabbed some parchments from the table before running back to the room you were being held in. Creating a makeshift bonfire in the middle of the room, you draped the two bodies across it and scattered the parchment on top. Then you quickly ran back to the kitchen and, using a silver tray, shovelled some of the embers onto it. Then you very carefully carried it to the bonfire and threw them on. After a moment of nothing the parchment suddenly caught fire and then the flames rapidly spread across the wood. You swiftly closed the door and ran back to Jaskier, pulling him into a small storage room where you waited. It wasn’t long before you could hear shouts and cries, then the front door swung open and several footsteps were heard running past you towards the room. You opened the door and peered out, seeing the men open the door and curse, protecting themselves from the out of control blaze. Then you made for the front door- Jaskier close behind- and threw it open, running in a straight line towards the forest edge. 

Your legs were burning and every fibre of your body ached, but you didn’t stop, you couldn’t. Jaskier was doing well to catch up, but he was calling out for you to slow down. When you ignored him, he grabbed your arm and pulled you back causing you to fall to the floor. “No Jask, we need to go-”  
“Darling we are of no service to anyone if we don’t rest.” He panted heavily; his throat dry from running as well as lack of water. Tears filled your eyes and this time you didn’t stop them. The bard pulled you onto an embrace and let you cry on him, stroking the back of your head. It only lasted for a few moments, but it was enough to make you feel better. You pulled away and smiled at him, “I’m sorry.”  
“Oh don’t you start, just get us to safety and then you can grovel.” He stood up and pulled you with him. As you went to take a step, your legs failed and you fell, luckily Jaskier caught you, “You alright?”  
“Yes, those bastards really enjoyed kicking my legs, they just feel like one big bruise.”  
“We need to find a village get some help, but I’m not entirely sure which way to go.” He was looking around, trying to find a sign of some sort. You looked behind you, an uneasy feeling filling your chest. “Let’s just walk, I’m not comfortable still being so close to… them.” Jaskier put your arm around his shoulder and both of you walked straight ahead, keeping in the trees to avoid easy detection.  
You managed to find a small stream and practically leapt at it, dunking your heads in and consuming as much water as you could. Jaskier then ripped part of his sleeve, dipped it in the cool water and set about cleaning your face, wiping off the blood and sweat, before handing it to you for his turn. Once you both were moderately clean, you stared at the stream, watching the water flow between the rocks and further down to your left. Then it hit you. “Jaskier,” You started, slowly turning to look at him, “The river by that village flowed downhill, right?”  
“Yes?” He replied, squinting at you.  
“Well, this stream also seems to be flowing downhill, so surely that means we need to go…” You turned to your right and your eyes followed where the stream snaked between trees. “Over there?” A smile dared to cross your face as you began to follow the stream, praying you were right.

The sun was slowly beginning to set as you finally made it out of the forest. The stream had grown and you were certain it was now the river. You continued to follow it and by the time the moon had risen, you could see the dim lights of the village at the top of the hill. Jaskier huffed from behind you, “You did it- we’re back!” He cried before starting to run, but you quickly grabbed his arm to stop him.  
“Wait- they’re not there, remember?”  
“Oh yes.” He replied disappointedly, “How are we going to find them then?” You looked over at the village, trying to picture the direction that Ciri rode off in. “Did they ride off in that direction?” You asked, pointing towards where the river split and part of it flowed downhill. Jaskier eyes followed where you were pointing, “I think so? If I’m honest I don’t remember, I was too busy watching you, I’m sorry.”  
“Don’t worry about it. But if I know Geralt, then he would ridden far away from the village, but not too far in the hopes that we can find him. What’s the nearest city that way?”  
“Er… I don’t think there is one, but Belhaven is about a day’s ride down there.” You looked at the bard and smiled.  
“Belhaven, I bet he’s gone there.” You cautiously crossed the river and continued to walk alongside, keeping your distance from the village. “Wait!” Jaskier shouted after you, scrambling to catch up, “It’ll take ages to get there on foot! And we have no food, no shelter!”  
“Is Pegasus still in the village?” You asked, sounding hopeful, but the hope quickly died when you saw his face drop.   
“No, after he got spooked, the bugger cantered off after Geralt.”  
“I see, in that case, walking it is.” You mumbled before continuing on.

“Ciri, wait!” Geralt shouted, Roach and Pegasus galloping fast to catch up with her. He grabbed your horse’s reins before slowing her down, “Easy Willow, easy.” He cooed before they both came to a stop. Geralt looked at the girl and noted the tears streaming down her face. “They’ll be fine, y/n can take her of hersel-”  
“It’s all my fault.” Ciri sobbed, refusing to look at the witcher. “Those soldiers were looking for me and now Jaskier and y/n are gone!” Geralt quickly dismounted his horse and moved over to her, placing her hand in his. “Listen, it’s not your fault. Y/n did exactly what I would have done in that situation. We care about you greatly and will do anything to keep you safe. She’ll be fine, so will Jaskier. They’ll come and find us.”  
“But how do you know?” She asked, her puffy eyes staring into Geralt’s. He paused for a moment, trying hard to keep his own fears from surfacing. “Because I know y/n. And she knows me. If we head to Belhaven, we can blend in there and wait for them, okay?” She nodded lightly before rubbing her wet face with the back of her hand. “Do you promise that they’ll come find us?”  
“I’m not the one who makes promises, Ciri.” He replied, before checking Pegasus was tethered properly to Roach and then mounting her again, “Y/n is. And she promised to keep you safe, so you can be damn sure she’ll see it done.”


	4. Promise Made, Promise Kept (Part 4)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As your journey takes you to Belhaven, there are several obstacles you need to overcome. 
> 
> Warnings: Swearing; canon typical violence; mentions of blood; fighting; use of knives

The gods spared no mercy to you as torrential rain battered your bare skin. Staggering across the open field, your limbs felt stiff and your clothes were heavy with water. Jaskier trudged alongside you, regularly opening his mouth to allow the cool drops to trickle down his throat, “At least we’re not hot! And we get a free drink!” He stated cheerfully, trying to offer his best smile. You wanted to return the favour but you had neither the strength nor the mood for it. Instead your eyes were trained on the road ahead where the grey sullen sky met deep green pastures. “You know, I bet Geralt and Ciri are both missing you terribly.” The bard offered, rubbing his wet hair with his hand and shaking it.  
“You make it sound like they won’t be missing you.” You replied, looking over your shoulder at him.  
“Oh I know they will be- Ciri will be missing my stories and Geralt will pine for my wonderful singing and talkative nature- no matter how much he would protest otherwise!” Jaskier looked at you and his face lit up when he saw you smiling, “I’m just saying that you are worth more to them than your professional skills. Ciri sees you as a mother figure and Geralt… well… he’s grown very fond of you over the last few months.” You didn’t look at Jaskier as he spoke, the faces of your recently acquired family were too much to bear. 

The rain finally slowed to a gentle fall while the sun made it’s descent in the sky. As luck would have it, you found a kind farmer who took pity on you both and offered shelter in his barn as well as some bread. Thanking him graciously, you and Jask devoured it, revelling in the way you felt it filled your stomach, as the farmer chuckled and offered you more before leaving you in the barn. Jaskier was making a bed of hay as you watched the sun dip below some trees. “Y/n you need to rest.”  
“It’s fine, Jask, I’ll keep watch-”  
“Y/n please, we’ve had a trying few days and neither of us are going to make it to them if you’re not well rested. Don’t argue and just come to bed.” You tilted your head as you stared at Jaskier, your arms coming up to cross your chest. “Please.” He quietly finished, fingers twiddling as he suffered under your glare. He felt relieved when your eyes softened and you ambled over to him, sinking down onto the soft straw. “I’m sorry Jask, I’m losing my mind with worry and it’s not fair on you.”  
“I know, it’s quite alright, but you’re definitely more adept to this kind of situation than I am and so I need you to not burn out on me.”  
“You don’t give yourself enough credit,” You retorted as you slowly laid back, sighing deeply as your muscles relaxed for the first time in days, “You held your own pretty well back there with those soldiers- it was song worthy.”  
“Oh ha ha.” Jaskier mumbled as he laid down beside you, “Hmm… maybe I will write a song about this one day, if I can get my lute back that is.”  
“You will,” You whispered, fatigue slowly sinking into your bones as your eyes fluttered closed, “I promise.”

You were walking down a dusty path, your eyes cast down, when you felt the need to look ahead. There- much to your surprise- were Geralt and Ciri, both standing side by side and smiling at you. Tears formed in your eyes as you called their names and began to run towards them… then you noticed that they never got closer, they were always just out of reach. Confused, you looked around you and suddenly tree stumps grew into Nilfgaardian soldiers, swords trained on you. Then a scream. You flicked your head and saw Geralt, Ciri and Jaskier being held at sword point. You screamed, begged for them to take you instead, and tried your hardest to sprint, to outrun whatever was keeping them away from you. Then just as you slipped and fell to the floor, you watched the soldiers ready their blades and draw them through the flesh of your loved ones’ necks. An animalistic cry erupted from your chest as your heart broke in two. The ground below you shook before opening up and swallowing you whole…  
“Y/n! Wake up!” A voice hissed at you, causing your eyes to spring open. Gasping for air, you shot up into a sitting position and clutched your chest. “Good gods my dear, are you alright?” Jask’s voice echoed in your ears as you looked at him, his concerned look melted into a delicate smile and then the images of your dream crashed into you like a runaway cart. Flinging your arms around him, you sobbed like never before, clinging tightly to his neck in fear of the dream becoming real. “Oh my sweet y/n.” He cooed as he held you tight, “It’s alright, you’re safe.” His whispers were comforting but you couldn’t bring yourself to believe them. What if you never found Geralt or Ciri again? What if you did but they got taken from you? You had spent decades on your own before you met this crazy band of people and now you couldn’t imagine life without them.  
Eventually your sobs died down and the tension in your body faded, which Jaskier felt was a good opportunity to pull away and assess the damage. He examined your face, wiping away the tears without a word, and then brushed some hair from your cheek, “Better?” You nodded and tried to give him a small smile. Returning the gesture he then sighed, “Right, well I think we’ve slept for long enough, don’t you?” Standing up slowly, he stretched his legs and walked over to the barn door. You heard him push it but instead of a creak there was a thudding sound. He tried again as you turned yourself in your seated position to watch, he was pushing hard against the door but it wouldn’t move. You knitted your eyebrows and hoisted yourself off the floor. He then ducked to peek through a gap and you heard him curse. “Oh fuck.”  
“What?” You asked, walking over to him.  
“The bastard barricaded the door.”  
“What!?” He moved out of the way so you could look through the gap in the wood. Despite the low lighting from the early morning sun, you could see a plank across the middle of the door as well as some other items leaning against it. “I don’t understand, why did he do that?” Your question was answered when you heard some neighing followed by loud shouts. Just through the crack in the door, you could see four Nilfgaardian soldiers riding up the track towards the farmhouse where the old farmer was waiting for them. He pointed to the barn you were in and your blood ran cold. “Oh curse that traitorous fuck!” You grumbled, quickly stepping away. You heard Jask call your name and you turned to see him walk to the back of the barn. Grabbing your sword from the floor by your makeshift bed, you quickly wrapped the holster around your waist as you jogged over to find him crouched by a small hole in the barn wall. “Reckon we can get this opened up?” You examined the wood around it, fingers tracing the planks to follow where they were nailed. Both of you were startled by the sound of wood hitting the barn door- which you assumed to be the soldiers removing the barricade- and you flicked your head back to him. “No, we need to make our stand here.” He nodded grimly at you as you jumped up and walked to the centre of the barn. Just as the sounds by the door grew louder, images of your dream came to mind as did a nagging voice in your head. “Jaskier,” You whispered, turning your head to see him standing defiantly by your side, “Climb up the beam and wait until it’s over.”  
“What? Y/n no-”  
“I’m not asking!” You snapped, unsheathing your sword and pulling out your knife. “Get up there now- that’s an order!” You stepped closer to the door, knees bent slightly and legs apart as you readied yourself for a brutal battle. Six against one is unfair, but four against one? You’d done that half-drunk and weaponless on many occasions. As you sharply inhaled, the doors flung open and two of the soldiers came in. At that point you launched at them, stabbing one with your sword and kicking the other to the ground. As they groaned, the other two soldiers came rushing in. You pushed the now dead soldier into them and pulled your sword out of his torso just in time as the fallen soldier got up and lunged at you. It was easy to deflect the strike, his swordsmanship was mediocre at best, and then as the other two came over, you flicked his sword away and used your knife to stab him in his ribcage. Before you had time to think, the other two soldiers came at you from either side, faces scrunched and eyes glaring. Dodging one sword, you cried out as the other grazed your side, cutting the fabric and the flesh with it. As you turned and kicked him hard in the chest, the other shoved you to the ground where you fell on your front, your sword skidding away from you. Rolling over quickly, you managed to escape a fatal blow and swung your leg to knock the soldier off his feet. He fell with a thud and you scrambled over to him with your knife and plunged it into his chest. You tried to pull it out as the last soldier stood up and staggered over to you, sword in hand. The knife wouldn’t budge and the blood on your hands made it slippery, so you had to go without. Holding your fists up, you stumbled slightly, heart thumping against your ribcage and your breathing heavy. You circled each other before he made his move, thrusting his sword towards you. You batted it away with your hand- cutting your palm slightly- and landed a punch to his nose. The man growled and swung his sword towards you again, this time you rolled out of the way, your back hitting a wooden pillar, hay falling from above. The soldier turned to you, his eyes darkened, his lips curled into a scowl. “Give us the girl.” He demanded, stepping closer to you.  
“Fuck you!” You spat; your fists clenched tight as your chest heaved and legs tingled. He snarled and flew at you, his hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing hard. You gripped his wrist and tried to push him away, but with your back against the pillar you had very little leverage. “I’m going to enjoy killing you,” He hissed, eyes staring into yours as your face turned red, “Then I’m going to kill your friend, wherever he’s hiding. And then-” His grip tightened and he pointed the tip of his sword to your abdomen. You began to choke as you felt an intense pressure at the top of your oesophagus. “- Then I’m going to hunt down the girl maybe even kill her.” You glared at him with all your might and bared your teeth, willing yourself to overpower him. He pulled back his sword, ready to plunge it into your side, but then you heard a squelch and his grip on you suddenly loosened. “You’re killing no one.” Jaskier’s voice growled as he came into view. He yanked the soldier backwards where he went limp, blood pooling from the back of his neck. As soon as your throat was free you were coughing and spluttering, bracing yourself on the floor and trying to calm down as the air rushed into your lungs. You managed to look up and saw Jaskier hovering over the man, your knife in his hand as blood dripped from the tip. He looked over at you, his breathing hitched as he then dropped the knife and came over to you, gently placing his hands on you, “You’re bleeding, are you okay, do you need a healer?” He mumbled, as he helped you to your feet. You took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, then placed your hands either side of his face, “I swear when we get to Belhaven, I am paying for two- no three- courtesans to spend all night and day with you.” He laughed at your statement and you couldn’t help but join him, although the feeling did burn your throat, “That’s… very kind… but to be honest, all I want is a bath and a hot meal.” He replied. You nodded and stumbled over to pick up your knife and sword, trying not to fall to the floor. As you straightened up, you turned and could see the farmhouse through the barn door. Growling under your breath, you marched towards it. Jaskier cocked his head before following you, “Er y/n? Where are you going?”  
“To pay the farmer a visit.” You grumbled, pushing hard against the barn door and hearing it slam against the wall.   
“Y/n no, let’s leave him; look we’ve got horses now! We can get to Belhaven by dusk if we keep going.” You paused, Jaskier’s hand on your arm, and you could see the cowering old man in his window. A violent desire was pulsing in your veins as you imagined yourself punishing the fool for putting yours and Jaskier’s lives in danger. “Please y/n, no more killing today.” The bard begged. The sorrow in his words broke you from your trance and you took a deep breath before looking over at him, “I see why Geralt likes you so much.” You said as you walked over to one of the horses, checking its reins before mounting it with some difficulty. “Why’s that then?” He asked, choosing his own horse and trotting over to where you had stopped at the edge of the road. “A hunter’s life is vicious, and it’s easy to become the very things you’re hunting. But you- you’re the voice of reason that gives us our humanity back.” He smiled at your words and you did the same. Looking back at the road, your eyes followed where it dipped and curved along the fields, before disappearing over a hill, “Let’s go find them.”


	5. Promise Made, Promise Kept (Part 5)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt comes to realise the full extent of his feelings for you as he and Ciri both wait for you and Jaskier in Belhaven. Will Destiny bring you all together? 
> 
> Warnings: Swearing; Sad!Geralt

Geralt had forgotten what it was like to sleep alone. He felt uncomfortable, like something was missing, as he tossed and turned that night. After losing you and Jaskier in the village, he and Ciri managed to get to Belhaven as the moon peaked through wisps of cloud and they found themselves a small room in one of the taverns. With it only having one bed, he let Ciri occupy that as he lay on the floor, which is where he had been for several hours now. He turned on his side, staring at the dying embers on the fireplace and willing himself to sleep. If anyone asked, he would say it was the uneven stones on the floor, the knowing soldiers could burst in at any moment, that stopped him from sleeping; but in truth it was because he missed you. He missed burying his face in your hair, the scent of your soaps calming him; he missed the way you talked in your sleep and how he sometimes caught you mumbling his name; he also desperately missed how- even the depths of your slumber- you would need contact with him, your fingers aimlessly roaming his chest, legs clinging to him as if to stop him from floating away. Every time he dozed, he found himself reaching out for your soft skin- only to find cold, hard stone- and the disappointment would shake him awake once more. 

The following day went by with little sound. Ciri spent the morning cleaning your horse, remembering what you taught her, while Geralt tried to find out if the soldiers had been through the town yet. In the afternoon, Geralt ended up in the tavern drinking alone as Ciri stayed in the room, staring out of the window and praying she would see you or Jaskier. But, as the moon once again made her away across the sky, neither of you were to be seen. Geralt slowly entered the room, scanning it before his eyes landed on Ciri still sitting by the window. “I brought you some food.” He called to her as he placed a plate on the small table by the bed. He received no reply, even as he walked over and sat down next to her. “You need to eat.” He said sympathetically.  
“I’m not hungry.” She finally muttered. Geralt let out a sigh and tilted his head to look at her. She was paler than usual; her eyes were glossy and looked ready to burst. He placed his arm around her and it didn’t take long before she leant into his shoulder and sobbed, clinging to his shirt. He wanted to tell her it was going to be okay, that you and Jaskier would find them soon, but that night his own fears were clutching at his heart and he wasn’t sure he could say it convincingly. So instead he picked her up and carried her to the bed where he sat with his back against the wall and allowed her to curl into him as she cried. “I’m so afraid.” She breathed between sobs, the only words she could muster. After thinking for a moment, Geralt took a deep breath and- instead of trying to respond with words- he placed his hand on her head and gently combed through the hair, something he had seen you do for her on numerous occasions. He felt the girl relax as she moved to lay her head on his lap. Before long he could hear her slumbered breaths, slow and calm, as he continued to stroke her hair. He leant his head back and once again prayed for you and Jaskier as two days’ worth of fatigue took over. 

“Geralt, it’s been three days now.”  
“I know.”  
“And they’re still not here.”  
“I know.” The witcher growled as Ciri paced the room.  
“Well, surely we need to do something?” She was flinging her arms in the air as she spoke, her voice was high pitched and breathy.  
“And what do you propose we do?” Geralt snapped, causing her to stop in her tracks. “Go look for them? Where? Please do share with me your bright ideas!” He looked up at her and could tell she trying to hold back tears. He swallowed hard as he unclenched his jaw. “I’m sorry, Ciri.” He said quietly, rubbing his face in his hands. When he looked back, Ciri had walked over and sat on the bed next to him, “It’s okay, I’m sorry too.” She offered him a smile before they both fell into silence. “What if they’re…” She cut herself off, before looking at Geralt who was now staring at her patiently. “What if they didn’t make it?” Geralt could see the fear in her eyes and didn’t dare to confess his own. As he pictured you in his mind, hands on hips and scolding him for his lack of faith, he smiled to himself before back at the young girl, “Come now Ciri, you seem to forget who we’re talking about here.” Ciri looked up at him but didn’t speak. He took a breath, “This is Y/n of The Dragon Mountains- Fearless Warrior, Slayer of Monsters and supposed Dragon herself!” Geralt turned his head and could see Ciri smile slightly before she finally looked at him, “Is it true that she fought off a gang of ten men who were trying to steal Willow?”  
He chuckled, “Well, it wasn’t quite ten- more two- but they had caught her unarmed, you know how much she loves that horse- there’s no way she was going to let some idiots take her.” Geralt was now smiling to himself at the image of you fighting off some desperate fools. Ciri turned to face him and crossed her legs, “And is it true that she saved you and Jaskier from a pack of wolves?”  
“Ah yes, that was the first time we ever met her- before we had you in tow.” He looked off in the distance as the memories came flooding in.  
He told her all about the event, how you had stopped one from attacking Jaskier and then helped him stop them from getting Roach. How you managed to kill the pack leader with nothing but a bare fist and scared the others off. Then he talked about the time you met again, this time whilst hunting the same banshee, and how you worked together to kill it, sharing the earnings. He also decided to tell Ciri about how proud you were when she first learnt how to use a sword, watching the girl’s face light up as he told her you were going to take her on a hunt someday. As the sun began to set, the orange glow filling the room, Geralt also made sure to tell Ciri about Jaskier – about his expert swordsmanship, the bar fights he had engaged in, as well as his ability to get beaten to a pulp and still put up a good defence. Telling these stories was Geralt’s way of reminding Ciri that both of you were very capable of looking after yourselves, that you two were the strongest, bravest and most resilient people he had ever met and that he was confident you would come back safely.  
That night, Ciri slept a little more peacefully and Geralt’s heart didn’t weigh so heavily. In a way, he had also comforted himself by telling those stories, he often forgot that neither or you were as innocent as your humorous ways would have you appear. As he laid down on the floor, staring at the moon outside, he imagined you were with him- picturing your smile, feeling your soft touch. This time apart had made the witcher finally realise something that he probably should have noticed a long time ago- he wasn’t just fond of you; he was in love with you.

“Another one, sir?” The barman asked, offering Geralt a kind smile. He nodded and placed some coins on the table as the man refilled his ale before pocketing the money. “And you, little miss?” Ciri shook her head at him, playing with the ends of her mud darkened hair. They had spent the day walking around the town in the hopes of anything that would indicate yours and Jaskier’s arrival but nothing so far. Tearing at her bread, Ciri sighed deeply, whilst Geralt was quickly emptying his tankard. They didn’t need words to express the common sorrow they were feeling, despair slowly sinking into their bones. Just then the tavern door swung open and two men came strolling in, the outside noise was far louder than inside which made Geralt and Ciri look at each other in confusion. The witcher eyed the men carefully as they sat at the bar. “I still can’t believe you’d help scum like that out.”  
“Look I’m just saying that if those soldiers are offering high coin for just two people then that sounds like a promising deal!” Geralt froze when he heard those words and he could tell Ciri’s heart was beating quicker. The thin, black-haired man stared at his companion in disbelief, “My friend, no deal with Nilfgaardians is worth your time, they’ll probably kill you before you can say ‘Give me the money’!” He laughed at his joke as the barman approached them, “What are you two idiots arguing over now?”  
“There’s some soldiers by the edge of town- Nilfgaardians- offering a high sum for the arrest of two fugitives.” Ciri gripped Geralt’s hand. He swallowed hard and formulated several escape plans, listening intently as the barman whistled, “I see, well if they want fugitives then Belhaven is a great place to look!”  
“Not just any fugitives,” The stockier man scoffed as his dark haired friend chuckled, “A man and a woman. Apparently, they’re spies or something-”  
“No idiot,” The black-haired man spat as he hit his friend lightly on the shoulder, “They’re not spies- they’ve killed soldiers! Sounded like loads the way they were talking.” Hope rose in Geralt’s chest and he desperately wanted to ask for more information but didn’t dare reveal himself. Luckily, the barman was just as curious, “So did they give a description or am I supposed to just guess?” He chortled.  
“Oh shit yeah,” The stockier man gulped his drink and then belched, “So the man has short brown hair, last seen wearing a blue doublet and breeches. Er... the woman… what was it they said, Jack?” His friend rolled his eyes.  
“By gods, you’d be a useless mercenary! The woman has y/h/c hair and brown armour, both of them are wounded and may ask for a healer, apparently.” A breath caught in Geralt’s throat, making him cough. The three men at the bar stared at him for a moment, before returning to their conversation as they argued over whether Nilfgaardians could be trusted or not. Geralt slipped away from the table and held his hand out to Ciri. When she took it, he led them both outside where there really was a commotion, residents whispering about the soldiers and who they were after. “Geralt, do you think it’s them?” Ciri asked quietly as her eyes scanned every person on the street.   
“Honestly, I don’t know,” He replied, doing the same thing as her when his eyes then landed on the market stalls, “But let’s find out.”


	6. Promise Made, Promise Kept (Part 6)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt and Ciri search Belhaven in hopes of anything that could point to your whereabouts. But with Nilfgaardian soldiers also searching for you both, is there any hope to be had?
> 
> Warnings: Swearing; canon typical violence; mentions of injuries, blood, knives/swords (Think like a combination of everything so far); I probably enjoyed writing this one a bit too much, sorry!

Geralt and Ciri spent many hours talking to the locals, trying to uncover anything that suggested you and Jaskier were in Belhaven, but the townspeople were reluctant to talk. They either accused the witcher of being a Nilfgaardian spy or were afraid that you were in a fact a beast he had come to hunt down; either way, no helpful information has gathered. As the day wore on, the pair found themselves lurking in shadows as more and more soldiers began arriving- each with their hands eagerly resting on the hilt of their swords, eyes darting in every direction. It seemed to Geralt that whatever you and Jaskier had done, spooked them to the point that they weren’t even searching for Ciri anymore; however he had no plans on relaxing just yet.  
Soon the sun glowed red as it descended, it’s deep colours bleeding into the sky around it whilst grey clouds slowly formed, looming over the town. “Here.” Geralt whispered as he passed some bread to Ciri before ducking into the alleyway to join her. She looked at it before glancing up at Geralt, “I don’t think I can eat, I’m too nervous.” She placed the bread in her bag instead and the witcher didn’t argue. He understood her reasoning, his own stomach churning at the imminent decision he may have to make. “Where the fuck are you?” He whispered to himself, willing you or Jaskier to hear him and respond. He peeked around the corner to see several Nilfgaardians talking to a resident before then stepping inside his house. “This place is crawling with soldiers,” He said, looking back at Ciri, “It’s becoming unsafe for you.”  
“What does that mean?” She asked, a hint of worry in her voice.  
“It means that we may need to leave-”  
“No we can’t!” She shouted. Geralt rushed to cover her mouth with his hand, waiting silently in case anyone heard them. When no one came, he slowly released her, “This is not up for debate, Ciri.”  
“I don’t care! We are not leaving without them!” She hissed, her eyes filling with tears, “We are so close to finding them again and you want to leave?”  
“Of course I don’t! But I can’t let them find you, otherwise this whole ordeal was for nothing.” Geralt took a breath and glanced away. The idea of leaving tore at his heart but he knew you’d tear it yourself if anything happened to Ciri, as if the girl was your child surprise and not his. Feeling Ciri’s hand on his arm, he looked back and found himself staring into her eyes as her lip trembled, “Please, we can’t leave, not yet.” He considered her words and squeezed his eyes shut before opening them again and looking down at her, “Fine. We wait until sunrise, if we haven’t found them by then, we have to go.” 

Before long raindrops hammered against the ground, covering every surface and soaking into every material. The soldiers were still wandering the streets as they began intensely searching each building. Despite this, their presence in the town had little effect on the residents who were doing their best to continue with their normal evening activities. The taverns were full and many locals were running through the streets to avoid getting wet, which greatly assisted Geralt as he sauntered over to the tavern to collect his and Ciri’s belongings. The young princess’ task was to get to the stables unseen and hide there until Geralt arrived, as he couldn’t risk her being in the tavern if the soldiers moved their search there. Her heart was racing as she navigated her way through the alleyways, it looked a lot different in the dark and this combined with her anxiety meant she quickly got lost. Turning down another alley, she tried desperately to recognise something. When she didn’t, she swiftly turned around and walked straight into something solid. It knocked her back a bit, her hood falling off her head as the solid figure groaned and turned around, “Oi watch it!” A gruff voice sneered. She recognised the rippled black armour and quickly flicked her head down, before mumbling an apology and went to walk past him. The soldier grabbed her cloak and pulled her back, “Not so fast little one, what are you doing out so late?” Ciri kept her head down, wishing he would let go.  
“I’m going home.” She muttered.  
“Oh yeah?” The soldier tilted his head to try and get a look at her face, “And where do you live? What’s your name?” Ciri was silent, the panic had begun to take hold as she thought about what to do. She didn’t have her knife- it was back at the tavern. The soldier roughly gripped her chin and lifted her head up to meet his eyes. He went to speak again but his voice trailed off as he stared at her forehead. She squinted at him, but then felt the cold wet drip that was slowly moving down her temple. Looking down at the ends of her hair, her blood froze when she realised the mud was washing off to reveal the blonde underneath. “Well I’ll be…” The soldier muttered as his eyes grew wide. At that point Ciri kicked the man in the groin and ran back down the alley.  
She heard him shout but carried on running, eyes darting around and looking for a gap between houses; skidding to a halt as she reached a dead end. Turning so her back was against the wall, her heart thumped wildly against her ribcage as the soldier came stalking over, his menacing grin reflected in the dim torch light as did the blade in his hand. “Well, well, well… I wasn’t expecting to find you here, Princess, my master will be pleased.” He jeered as he stepped closer before stopping merely inches from Ciri. He lifted the blade in his hand, blocking any chance of escape. “You’re mine.” He snarled before moving to grab her. Suddenly there was a swift movement behind the soldier and he was thrust into the side of the house next to them. Ciri saw the glint of a knife as the figure flicked the small blade in their hand before spearing it into the man’s chest. “No- she’s mine.” A female voice growled as the soldier’s eyes rolled back and he slowly sunk to the floor. The familiarity of the voice rang in Ciri’s ears as the figure turned and pulled back their hood to reveal y/h/c hair and your smiling face, “Hello sunflower.”

“Y/n!” Ciri cried as she launched at you. You wrapped your arms around her in a tight embrace as she buried her face in your chest and you could feel your heart breaking as she began to sob. Kneeling down, you wiped the tears from her face and kissed her forehead, “Now, now, I’m not dead yet! But we do need to go.” You whispered before quickly taking her hand and leading her back to the alley entrance.  
“Geralt is expecting me at the stables.” Ciri managed to stutter. You peeked around the corner of the alley- seeing an empty street- before slowly walking out with your arm around the girl. You walked at pace but slow enough to not alert anyone as you continued to casually look around. At that moment, some soldiers came out of one of the houses nearby and you both quickly slipped into the shadow of a passageway under one of the houses. You stroked Ciri’s hair as she looked up at you. “Don’t worry, we’ll find Geralt.” You smiled at her before pulling her in for another hug. “Wait, where’s Jaskier?” She asked quietly. You waited for the soldiers to walk past before you answered her, watching them approach a house opposite. “It’s okay he’s here too.” You reassured her. When you saw the soldiers walk into the house and close the door, you stepped back into the street and headed towards a small alley by the blacksmith’s shop. Once there, you checked for anyone watching before giving a short whistle. Ciri tilted her head at you before hearing a calm voice behind her, “Hey trouble.” Her lips broke into a grin and she leapt at Jaskier where he was knelt. He gave her a tight hug as she whispered in his ear, “I was so scared something bad had happened to you both.”  
“Not a chance.” He said smugly before letting go. He looked over to see you smiling at them both and he took a breath, “Where next?”  
“Which stables, Ciri?” You glanced over at her, watching her think hard before she looked back at you,  
“It’s a small one, near the main entrance. There’s a butchers next to it, I think.” Nodding at her, you turned your attention back to the street. The residents had now all taken refuge in their homes, making wandering around even more dangerous. “Okay, follow my lead.” 

Luck was on your side as most of the houses had covered passageways, making it easy to keep hidden as you progressed towards the main entrance of the town. The unmistakable smell of raw meat and animal hides filled your noses. “There.” Ciri whispered, pointing ahead of you. The stable was small, barely visible due the surrounding buildings and lack of light. Holding her hand, you walked ahead as Jaskier followed. Once at the stable door, you peered inside and exhaled in relief before entering. Jaskier immediately went over to his horse, petting him a few times before then embracing his lute like it was a lost child. Ciri watched him giggling as you approached yours, “Hello Willow. You did a good job carrying the little one for me.” Your horse whinnied in response. You stroked her hair and it felt much softer than you remembered, “You’ve been pampered, I see.”  
“I cleaned her, just like you taught me.” Ciri informed you, offering a small smile.  
“You did a wonderful job.” You replied. Suddenly there was shuffling outside and you quickly pulled Ciri behind you, knife and fist raised, as Jaskier moved to your side with his sword in his hand. As a figure entered the stable, you went to launch at them but froze when your gaze attached itself to amber eyes. “Geralt…” You whispered, your heart swelling in your chest and a wave of emotion threatening to come to the surface. He stared at you in disbelief, before dropping the saddlebags in his hands and leaping towards you, pulling you into him. His scent overwhelmed you as you gripped him tight, the feel of his stubble against your cheek was like coming home. He leant into your shoulder, inhaling you, as he allowed his senses to take you in and prove that you were real. After a few moments he pulled away from you and looked over to where Jaskier was stood by Ciri. You let go of the witcher so he could embrace his best friend- much to the bard’s surprise- and you swore you could see tears in Jaskier’s eyes. Ciri slipped herself under your arm as she hugged you around the waist. You wished this moment could last forever- the utter bliss you all shared at seeing each other again, the unspoken words of longing and love in all its forms- as you thanked the gods for bringing your family back together. “Oh Geralt, I knew you missed my singing.” Jaskier mumbled, causing everyone to laugh as Geralt let go of him. He then immediately began scanning Jaskier for signs of injury (while the bard huffed and groaned that he was fine) before the witcher finally believed him and turned his gaze to you. “Oh no, we don’t have time for this!” You argued but he didn’t listen, instead he tugged you away from Ciri and began checking you in silence. You rolled your eyes at the young girl before she started loading Willow with your saddlebags; Jaskier checking Pegasus was ready to go. You felt Geralt’s fingertips touch the bruises on your neck which made you wince, “Hey don’t touch, that’s fresh.”  
“It’s a handprint. Someone strangled you.” He stated, circling you.  
“Oh no kidding? I would never have known.” You joked as Geralt continued his examination. For some reason you felt incredibly exposed to him, despite having been naked in front of him several times, and it was very uncomfortable. “You look like you’ve been dragged through a kikimore nest.” He muttered before standing in front of you.  
You scoffed at him before folding your arms, “Thanks Geralt, your compliments are just too much.”  
“Y/n I’m being serious, your wounds need tending-” You stepped closer as you placed a finger on his lips,  
“Geralt, I’m fine. Really. I’m just glad we found you again.” You felt his lips kiss your finger and you slowly removed it, staring into the amber pools you loved to drown yourself in. After a few silent moments, you both heard a small cough behind you and turned to see Jaskier and Ciri watching you both. “As lovely as this is, Ciri doesn’t need the trauma and we all need to leave.” You nodded before moving away from the witcher, the rain on the roof barely louder than your thumping heart.

The streets were deathly quiet, no voices, no neighing, only falling rain. Alarm bells sounded in your head, but you knew it was now or never. Nodding to Geralt, you slowly led your horse out of the stable, the soft clacking of her hooves on the cobbled stones creating a steady beat. Willow hated the rain and would normally verbally declare it, but it seemed this time that even she was aware of the gravity of your situation. You slowly mounted your horse as Geralt brought Roach alongside, Jaskier and Ciri behind you with Pegasus. Walking Willow forwards onto the street, you looked down either side and saw nothing, releasing a quiet sigh in relief.  
You followed the road as it weaved around the corner. When you saw the main gates, your heart soared; only for it to come crashing back down when you saw various soldiers standing guard. You tilted Willow towards the side of a house and Geralt came up beside you, looking at you. “Four soldiers at the gate, two on horseback.” You told him. He took in a breath before walking Roach on,  
“Wait here, no sudden movement.” He ordered before riding around the corner. Jaskier and Ciri rode up to your side.   
“What’s he doing?” Jaskier asked.   
You shrugged your shoulders, “No idea, buying us time hopefully.” It wasn’t long before you heard some shouts, followed by galloping hooves. You pulled Willow further into the shadows as Jaskier did the same. The two soldiers on horseback rode straight past you and down the street to where they would no doubt find their fallen comrades. Watching as they disappeared in the distance, you then heard two muffled cries followed by thumps. Then a whistle. It was Geralt’s signal. At the click of your tongue, Willow walked forward and you directed her around the corner where you saw two figures on the floor and Geralt stood over one of them. As you got closer, the witcher mounted Roach and carried on through the gate. You pulled back to let Jaskier and Ciri go next, Pegasus behaving for once. As the hammering rain quietened, your ears pricked up to hammering of a different kind. Hooves. Turning quickly, you saw the two horsemen had returned and you kicked Willow into a gallop. “Go!” You bellowed as all three horses moved as quickly as they could. The rain stung your face, adrenaline pumping through your veins. You turned back and could see the soldiers still following, riding hard. Carefully, you leant back to unhook your bow from your saddlebag and pulled out an arrow. As Willow kept galloping, you loaded your bow and turned your body halfway, pulling back on the string as hard as you could. You felt your arms shaking from lack of food, sleep and health, but you needed to get this right now more than ever. Breathing out slowly, you released the arrow and watched it fly into one of the soldiers, sinking into his chest. You heard him cry out as he slumped to the side, falling off his horse, the other soldier mercilessly continuing. Reaching for another arrow, you heard a ‘ffft’ sound which suddenly became searing pain in your left side, causing you to lose balance and fall. You hit the ground hard. Your head was pounding and your left side throbbed. Feeling for the source of the pain, you groaned as you felt the thin, long stick that was protruding from your flesh. Rain clung to your clothes and made you feel heavy, enough to sink right into the dirt below you, the gentle drumming of the rain hitting the ground matched your slowly beating heart… you were shaken from your trance by the sound of hooves and an angry growl. Flicking your head up in time, you saw the soldier swing his sword at you. Rolling away and snapping the arrow in your side in the process, you narrowly escaped the fatal blow. The soldier turned his horse around and came at you once more, sword pointed at you. You made a loud whistle and ran up to his horse, tilted its head up with your hands, avoiding the swinging blade. This was enough to spook the animal and it began rearing up on its hind legs. As the soldier tried to calm it down, this was enough time for you to jump up and grip onto his armour, tugging harshly and pulling him off. He fell hard as his sword clattered to the ground and the horse bolted. You reached for the sword but the soldier shoved you hard and grabbed it himself, standing up quickly and pointing it at you. He stalked towards where you were lay on the ground, your body too fatigued to move. “You’re mine.” He panted, as he raised his sword. You closed your eyes and waited, silently praying that Geralt, Jaskier and Ciri were still riding away from harm. You flinched as you heard the unmistakable sound of metal slicing flesh but felt no pain. Opening your eyes, you saw Geralt with his sword buried deep in the man’s torso as he gaped at the witcher. “She’s mine.” Geralt snarled, before letting the soldier’s body drop from his grasp. Just then the intense pain made your head spin and the world swirled around you as your head fell back and everything went dark. 

You were stirred awake by the smell of smoked fish and pine. Fluttering your eyes open, you looked around, unsure of where you were. As you sat up, a sharp pain hit your left side and you hissed, looking down to see a white cloth covering it up. You felt a warm hand on your shoulder and glanced up to see Geralt as he knelt down beside you, gently pushing you back to lie down. Then the memories of your recent adventure came flooding back and you tried to sit up again. “Is everyone okay? Are we safe? Where’s Ciri?” The words tumbled out of your mouth like a waterfall. Geralt didn’t answer straightaway as he continued to push you down until you gave in and laid back. You watched him, eyes wide as he checked your wound and tutted at seeing the red patch slowly grow on the cloth. “We’re safe.” He muttered as he reached in his saddlebag for a small bottle. “And Ciri? What about Jaskier-”  
“Everyone is fine. This is going to sting.” He informed you as he pulled the white cloth back, popped the cork and tilted the bottle over your wound. The liquid burned your skin on contact and you flinched, clenching your jaw. He nodded when you exhaled and covered your wound again before gently placing his hand on your cheek, stroking it slowly. “I almost lost you again.” He whispered, his voice choking slightly. You looked into his eyes and saw them watering. “You’ll never lose me. I promise.” You croaked. He laughed at your remark before leaning down to capture your lips in a kiss. It was soft, barely there and felt like a miracle cure to all of your ailments. “You and your promises.” He murmured against your lips. You smiled at him, “I always keep them.” He chuckled again before pressing his lips to yours another few times before sitting back up. “That you do.” He admitted. You stared at each other in silence for a while, silent words softly floating into the air. Soon you heard your name being called followed by running as Ciri quickly came into view and kneeled beside you, Jaskier following behind and kneeling on your other side. You beamed at them both, grateful to see their faces, “Are you okay?” Ciri asked.  
“Never better, my sunflower.” You replied. Forget the moment in the stable- this was moment you wished you could live forever.


End file.
